In the mountainous area, there was a new grave and a pile of old graves.
In the surroundings, the bamboo forest swayed with the wind. The slender leaves rustled as they collided with each other, setting off the old and new graves against the setting sun. It was somewhat desolate.
Chu Feng quickly dug up the new grave. There was no coffin underneath, only a withered old man.
Yu Shang. His background was astonishing and he should have an illustrious status. But now, he didn’t even prepare a coffin for himself and lay in the yellow soil.
He wasn’t the least bit angry. He was like a corpse with a sallow complexion. He lay there motionlessly.
Chu Feng carried him out. He felt somewhat uncomfortable. This race had the blood of a heavenly monarch flowing in their bodies, but in the end, they ended up in such a miserable state?
